


Anniversaries and Friends Old and New

by completelyhopeless



Series: Two Circus Birds [8]
Category: DCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 18:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2821547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/completelyhopeless/pseuds/completelyhopeless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The anniversary of Dick's parents' death comes around, causing more tension in his strained relationship with Bruce, Barbara ends up reluctantly picking up the pieces. Clint sets himself down a strange path for redemption and almost gets caught on the wrong side of Batman and Robin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversaries and Friends Old and New

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a prompt for this one. I was going to use one, but it didn't really pan out. 
> 
> I may be rushing things. I just wanted to be able to move past some of the angst. I also wanted to move more characters into the universe, though I'm not sure how to get more of the Marvel ones in when I know Clint doesn't meet them until later.

* * *

“You shouldn't be out here, especially not without your mask.”

Dick sighed. He'd thought Batman understood when he gave him the eskrima sticks, but despite night after night of fighting beside his guardian and mentor, Bruce was still a stranger to him, and he didn't know how to change it. He'd tried, but Bruce wasn't willing to meet him halfway, and even asking to go back to the orphanage hadn't made a difference.

“You know I need to be out here.”

“No,” Batman said. “You need to be in school, not compromising yourself. You do know that if anyone sees you here in the daylight doing the things Robin does at night, you will be recognized. You might even get yourself killed.”

Dick tried to protest, but Batman caught him around the waist and fired off his grappling hook, dragging him along with him back to the stuffy prep school. Dick knew he couldn't struggle or get away. The fall would have killed him, and he wasn't suicidal, no matter what Batman thought.

“Stay here,” Bruce said, putting him on the ground. “I'll know if you leave.”

“Have you forgotten what day it is?”

“It's a day for little boys to be in school.”

“You bastard,” Dick said as Batman took off again. Not only did these jerks hate Dick for being an orphan Bruce picked up off the streets who had gotten farther in his homeschool than he'd realized, enough to be too smart for them, but today was the damned anniversary of the reason he was here. It was the day his parents had died. The day he lost his best friend.

The last place he wanted to be today was in school.

* * *

“You know, they'll get you for destroying school property if you keep that up.”

The boy hit the locker again before collapsing against it. “It doesn't matter. He'll pay whatever fine they want and nothing will happen. Nothing changes. It never does.”

Barbara almost asked him who he was talking about, but she didn't have to. She'd seen this kid's picture in the paper enough, and even if she hadn't, she had never been able to forget that night at the circus. That night that was—oh, hell, three years ago today. What was Grayson doing in school, today of all days?

“Dick,” she began, “I don't think you should be here today. I can talk to our science teacher and get your homework for you.”

“Why would you do that?”

She shrugged, giving him a slight smile. “Maybe I figure us Wayne charity brats need to stick together.”

He frowned. Then he grimaced. “Right. I forgot. You're Commissioner Gordon's daughter. You just... you never noticed me before.”

“Not true.” Bruce Wayne's ward was impossible not to notice, especially when he had been placed in classes above his level with her. He was smart, but since he'd been raised in a circus, the students all assumed Wayne had paid for that. Some of the teachers had, too, but she thought he'd proved himself to them, at least. “You just seemed like a kid who wanted to be left alone.”

“I miss who I was before all this happened,” he admitted. He shook his head. “I used to laugh and smile and do tricks because was happy. Now I do them because I need to, because I can remember my parents when I do, but I have gotten lost since they died. I don't know who I am anymore.”

She sat down next to him. “You're still their son. That doesn't change because they're gone. You have everything they taught you.”

“You're smart. I always knew you were, but I didn't figure you'd be this nice to me.”

“So I'm not nice?”

“No, that's not what I meant. It's just... Clint was the only friend I ever had before. Everyone in the circus liked me, well, almost everyone, but they weren't really friends. We weren't close. I just had Zitka and Clint and my parents. I tried to be friends with Barney, but he hated me. Clint was the only kid my age that didn't end up hating me.”

“Clint was the boy that died that night," she said, and Dick looked at her. “I was there.”

“I know. I saw you. My parents made fun of me for being fascinated by your hair.”

She smiled. “What, you never saw red hair before?”

“Not like yours.”

She laughed. “Well, I never saw anyone do a somersault like you so I guess we're even.”

“Even like friends?” Dick's voice took on a vulnerability that made him seem even younger than he was. “Bruce... He doesn't seem to know what to do with me. He's a father figure but refuses to be a father. He doesn't act like a friend, either, except a few rare times that leave me more confused than anything. Alfred tries, but he won't cross that line, won't forget that he's a servant. I'm so tired of being alone.”

“What about Zitka?”

“She's an elephant. The circus took her when they left Gotham.”

Barbara didn't want to, but she felt sorry for him. She nudged him with her elbow. “Charity brats have to stick together, right?”

The smile he gave her then was heartbreaking.

* * *

“What are you thinking, Master Bruce?”

“I'm working, Alfred.”

“Yes, of course you are, but you must be aware of what day it is. Where is Master Richard?”

“At school. Where he belongs.”

Alfred's disapproving scowl somehow translated through the line, like he was there in person. “Three years ago today, that boy lost his parents and his best friend. He should not be at school. He should be with you.”

“No.” 

“Master Bruce—”

“Someone is going around putting arrows in former associates of Swordsman. I don't want Dick anywhere near this. He stays at school until you bring him home. No Robin. Not today. Not until this archer is stopped.”

“He will not forgive you.”

“He'll be alive. That's what matters.”

* * *

Clint needed better arrows. He didn't like the cheap ones he could get in stores. If he had more time, he'd craft them himself. Trickshot thought that was stupid, but for all the man's skill with a bow, he didn't have any real respect for it. He had bought Clint an expensive bow once, but Clint had sold it for one that suited him better, knowing he would build one himself someday.

Well, he'd have a lot of time for it when he turned himself in and got locked up.

He was going to do it, too. He just had to finish a few things first. He had to find Swordsman. He owed Dick and his parents that much. Clint knew he couldn't face his friend unless he did. He had become a criminal and a killer, and since he was, he needed something to offset that. He'd make it up by stopping the gang and finding Swordsman. Clint couldn't believe that Gotham had a superhero like Batman running around and yet Swordsman was still free.

Clint was going to fix that.

He fired an arrow into his target's leg, smiling in satisfaction when it hit and the thug cried out.

“That's not a toy, you know.”

Clint looked behind him. So that was Batman. He wasn't impressed. “He deserved it. You know that better than anyone.”

Batman grunted. “Kid, you don't know what you're doing. You are in over your head.”

Clint laughed. He'd been in over his head for most of his life. The circus, Trickshot, almost killing his brother. He was used to that by now. “I need to do this. You won't stop me.”

Batman reached for him, but Clint jumped off the roof, firing an arrow with a line tied to it as he fell, swinging into a broken window. He fell, hard, but he rolled over and forced himself up. He took off his dollar store mask and threw it and the empty makeshift quiver in the barrel the squatters were using as a way to keep warm. Pulling up his hood, he joined the junkies in the corner, settling in to watch the caped crusader pass.

* * *

“I've heard a few things about you, kid.”

“I'll kill you before you can get close to me,” Clint said. He had learned a long time ago not to trust strangers. Ones that claimed to know him were worse. He wasn't what they thought. People assumed a lot of crap about him. He was a junkie or a dealer or a killer. The last was true, but not here. In Gotham, he did like the Bat did, disabling gang members and letting the police deal with them. Batman didn't use arrows, though.

“See, that's why I wanted to talk to you. I've got a little proposition for you.”

“You can go. I'm not for sale. Not in any way.”

“A pity. I thought this would be right up your alley.”

Clint snorted. “You don't know me.”

“I know you've been doing Gotham a favor by ridding it of some low level scum. All I want you to do is the same thing for someone a little more high profile. And I will make it worth your while.”

Clint tried not to react. Truth was, he was almost out of the money he'd taken from Trickshot, and he was behind on paying Barney's hospital bills. He needed money. “I'm not going to kill for you.”

“Not kill. I just want a message delivered to a playboy whose company is ruining the environment. Think of your arrow as poetic justice. A tree fighting against what Bruce Wayne has done to it.”

Damn. Clint was even more tempted than before. He'd started collecting newspaper articles and all he could find on Dick, and every time he was in public with his guardian, the other boy looked miserable. Wayne Manor was too remote for Clint to do any checking upon Dick there, but he'd seen Dick at school, and his friend did not look happy.

“Just an arrow in the leg?”

“Wherever you want. Easy ten grand.”

The idea of killing Wayne did cross Clint's mind. Maybe Dick would inherit Wayne's fortune and be set for life. Then again, maybe he would really screw Dick up because he had someone else die on him. “I'll think about it.”

* * *

“I need you. Now. Suit up.”

Dick snorted. Typical Bruce. The man ignored him until he wanted something.

“Isn't this a strange time for a charity event?” Barbara asked, setting down her pencil. It rolled off her book, but she was too focused on Bruce to care. She really was a cop's daughter. She missed nothing. Maybe being friends with her was a bad idea.

Bruce frowned. “I didn't know you had a girlfriend.”

Dick hit his face with his hand, humiliated. He had to be red, and he wanted to crawl under his bed and disappear. “Barbara's my lab partner and maybe my friend, which you would know if you were ever around or bothered to talk to Alfred. Since you don't—”

“Now is not the time for this. I need you.”

“You haven't needed me for over a month. The last time we interacted was you dumping me at school on the anniversary of my parents' murder. That was almost six weeks ago, in case you were curious, but you're not.”

“Dick—”

“Fine.” Bruce's voice was dangerously close to his Batman voice, and Dick didn't want to do this in front of Barbara. “We can finish this tomorrow, right, Babs?”

She gave him a suspicious look. “Yes.”

“Good," Bruce said. "Alfred will take you home. Say hello to your father for me.”

She nodded, gathering up her things. Dick rose, ready to follow Bruce down to the Batcave when she was gone. She stopped at the door, looking back at him with genuine concern, but he waved her on. He was fine. He shouldn't have picked a fight with Bruce, but it still stung, the way Bruce had forced him to go to school and then ignored him after the anniversary. Alfred said it must have been Bruce's own bad memories, and Dick understood. He just had a hard time telling that to his emotions. Or maybe he just didn't believe it.

“What's up?”

“I need you to be Robin.”

“Why?”

“Because the word on the street is that someone put a hit on Bruce Wayne. I can't draw them out unless I'm myself, but I don't want them to get away, either. I need Robin.”

Dick almost laughed when he heard that. Of course it wasn't _Dick_ he needed. Dick was a useless child. Robin was supposed to be a hero.

“Where do I need to be?”

* * *

Clint found himself a perch high above the city, knowing that if this charity event went on, he'd get a good look at Bruce Wayne and maybe even Dick. The two of them usually attended these things together, from what Clint could tell. It seemed almost like Dick was some kind of toy, some trophy Wayne took out for all the charities to see—look, he was a good man, he dragged a kid around with him, and that kid was forcing the fakest smiles on the planet, but the point was that Wayne had taken in this poor orphan so he was a good man.

He'd _better_ be. Clint would kill the man if he'd done anything to hurt Dick. He'd heard some rumors about it, but no one had proved anything, and Clint mostly tried to believe that was the kind of thing they'd say about any eccentric rich guy who suddenly took in a kid.

“You know, when he said there was a hit out on Bruce Wayne, I didn't really figure on the assassin being a kid. I guess we're all getting a bit young in this business, huh?”

Clint whirled, wondering how he'd missed anyone approaching him. Must have been thinking about Dick. That was sure to make him do something stupid like get caught by Gotham's Boy Wonder. “I was starting to think you were a myth. Batman's been going out without you for a while now.”

“Batman does what he wants.” Robin pointed to Clint's bow. “You really planning on using that on Bruce Wayne?”

“What's it to you? Shouldn't you be all into the Robin Hood thing and stealing from the rich?”

“You're the archer, not me.”

Clint almost laughed. This was weird. He shouldn't be _happy_ about getting caught, but he was having too much fun verbally sparring with this kid. “A guy did offer me ten grand to put an arrow in Wayne.”

“And you took it?”

“Considered it. Could use the money.”

“Yeah, that mask is a dead giveaway,” Robin agreed. “I think they sell them ten for a dollar. You might want to rethink that one. You'd be like the worst superhero ever.”

“Oh? And who sewed your costume? Your mommy a little colorblind or what?”

Robin tensed. “My mom's dead, actually. So's yours, I imagine, or you wouldn't be here now.”

“She could just have abandoned me.”

Robin shrugged. Clint kind of felt like hitting him. “Anything you can tell me about this guy who paid you to kill Wayne?”

Clint shook his head. “No. One—I never got any money. Two—I never said I was going to kill him. The guy asked me to put an arrow in Wayne. That's all. There are plenty of places that I could have done that without killing him.”

“I know.” Robin studied him for a moment, and Clint found himself watching right back, trying to figure out what he was going to do next. He'd escaped Batman before, and his kid sidekick should be easy to lose—he could leave now and get away. “Was it really just for the money?”

“What's it to you?”

Robin reached behind him, and Clint had to jump back when the kid went after him with the eskrima sticks. Boy Wonder had made a mistake. Clint knew how to defend himself against that. He'd trained with Swordsman and with Dick, and he didn't care if he carried a bow now and preferred it over everything. He could fight this.

He dodged a strike and went behind the other kid, grabbing hold of the cape and yanking it backward, dragging Robin toward him. “Bit of fashion advice—capes are a bad idea.”

“Already knew that,” Robin muttered. “Kind of a must when running around with the caped crusader, though. If I was on my own, I'd go without a cape.”

Clint would have laughed if the stick hadn't gotten him in the gut and forced him to let Robin go. The hero stepped back, circling, and Clint did the same, trying to decide if he wanted to keep fighting or try and make a run for it.

“You know you were set up, right? They really do want Wayne dead. Getting you to fire an arrow at him was their idea of a cover. You'd go down for killing him whether you intended to or not.”

Damn it. “I'll kill him for that.”

“No, you won't,” Robin said. “You're not a killer. You don't have that in you. If you did, we would never have had this conversation. Or you would have ended it when you got my cape. It's not you. It could be, but it isn't. Not yet.”

“What is it with everyone in this damn town assuming that they know me?”

Robin laughed. “Really? You haven't figured it out yet? Oh, I'd stay here and keep teasing you about it, but someone's about to shoot an arrow at Wayne for real, and that one will have poison on the tip, so I have to go. See you later, Hawkeye.”

Clint stared at him as Robin flipped off the roof and fired a grappling hook to take him across to the other building.

* * *

“You're staring at me.”

Barbara winced. She hadn't meant to get caught, but she had to admit, Dick had her worried. “You can't stop smiling. It's not like you. And after that whole thing with Bruce the other day—”

Dick's smile disappeared. “Please tell me you're not going to bring back up the molestation rumors because those had finally died down and I'd really like them to stay that way.”

She swallowed, trying to find the right words.

“Bruce isn't like that,” Dick insisted. “Our relationship is... weird. I can't figure out what it is, but I do know what it isn't. He's never touched me like that, okay? I swear, Babs, if he was, I'd tell you. I'd... I'd do anything to get help and get away from him, but it's not like that.”

“Okay,” she said, letting out a breath. “I'm glad it isn't. I really didn't like thinking that maybe one of Dad's friends was...”

“Yeah. I know.”

“So, what's with the mood? Don't tell me it's nothing,” she said, pointing a finger at him. “We may only have been lab partners for about a month, but I know you. What's up?”

He started to say something and then stopped, doing a back flip and waiting, like she expected him to applaud. When she didn't, he rolled his eyes. “I found a way do acrobatics without needing it to be about my parents.”

She smiled, but she wasn't stupid. Dick wasn't telling her everything.

* * *

Clint ripped open the envelope and took out the paper, his stomach twisting. He knew they needed a lot of money to pay off Barney's hospital bills, and he didn't have enough. He didn't even have enough to go down and get more of the cheap masks from the dollar store.

He looked at the page, frowning. Paid in full? How the hell had that happened? He didn't have that kind of money, and he hadn't taken any from the man who'd tried to set him up to kill Wayne. He didn't know that he would have done it, taken a shot at the man, but he knew he owed Robin for stopping him.

He set the bill aside, still frowning. He checked the other envelope, his throat going dry when he saw the name on the outside of it. _Hawkeye._

He tore it open and yanked the note out.

_Next time you need money, come to me. Well, if you're smart enough to figure it out._

The note was signed with nothing more than the R symbol from Robin's uniform, but as soon as he saw it, Clint let out a curse.

“Damn it, Dick, you are such a... _dick.”_

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt I was going to use was "you never fail to forget my name." The idea I had was one I created before I actually started writing this universe, and it was to have three meetings between Clint and Dick. The first one was him meeting Robin not knowing it was Dick, then another after Dick became Nightwing and Clint thought he was still Robin, and a third where he had to interact with Dick's day job as an officer. After I started writing the universe it was so... in order that I didn't think I could skip around to do those three parts, though I do still want to do the later meetings as Nightwing and when Dick's a cop because at least one of them would involve Dick meeting Natasha, and I think she would be very amused to hear the stories her partner wouldn't want Dick to tell her.


End file.
